What an empty place

Even with hundreds inhabiting

Shared possessions

Of the same illusory face

Like farm animals

They graze on greedy seed

In the American maze

Amazed at the low prices

Who am I to judge though

Living at my mom’s home

Working here

Smoking weed and drinkin cheap beer

Into my happy lil haze

We’re all lost and scared

Paying high costs to be content

Never prepared

For the hollow holocausts

Stupid paper consents

Others just seem a little better

Situated with the shit

Hidden in designer clothes

Plastic smiles and doll laughs

Money to buy gas

Houses with comfy couches

To sit their fat asses

Alls I got

Is ashes in a bong

Pipe schemes and pot dreams

Every hit

To forget

New Years

New rock bottoms

Every year

Every fear

Every beer

Every tear

Every day

Every false fucking way